


A Kinda Peace

by convolutedConcussion



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I'm Gonna Wrap My Fave In A Blanket And Love Them, Just Give My Darlings Hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convolutedConcussion/pseuds/convolutedConcussion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the events of 1.12--I just imagine Wynonna has feelings.  A quick ficlet on that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kinda Peace

After roughly two hours of staring at her ceiling, Wynonna breaks down and grabs her phone.  She shoots off a quick _are you awake???_ before she can talk herself out of it and waits.  Moments later, the screen lights up with a picture of Dolls taken when he hadn’t been paying attention and shoveling lo mein in his mouth.

“If this is a booty call, this is a really bad time,” Dolls growls.

“Um, no,” she laughs, curling onto her side.  “Did I wake you up?”

“Wasn’t sleeping,” he answers.  “You okay?”

“Can’t sleep,” she says, hot with embarrassment.

There’s a pause and she can hear him shifting.  “Again I ask—are you okay?”

Grunting, she shoves her face into her pillow.  “No?  I don’t know?” she sighs.  “The whole town did just try to kill me.”

“You’re okay, Wynonna, you made it out,” he tells her, soothing and a little muffled.

She lets out a long breath.  “I know!  Got those bruises to prove it,” she mumbles, frustrated.  “I—I’m sorry, I dunno why I bothered you.”

“Hey,” he says quickly.  “It’s fine, just.  Talk to me.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how shitty would it be for me to ask you to come over?” she winces, covering her face.

“It’d be higher if I’d been asleep,” he huffs.  “Right now it’s like a three.  You want me to come over?”

“Kinda?” she answers weakly.

His gentle chuckle is only a little flat.  “I’ll text you when I get there, okay?”

After hanging up, Wynonna spends the next fifteen or twenty minutes trying to slowly smother herself face-down into her pillow.  There’s an uneasy sort of shame in her gut, but, she reasons, she _did_ just almost die.  Given how often that happens, she should probably be used to it by now.  Today was—was different, though, and she can’t shake it.  She’s unsettled.  The feeling’s never been so _strong_ before in non-life-threatening situations.  She about agonizes it to death when she gets the text that he’s outside.

He’s on the porch when she swings the front door open, and she mumbles, “You could have just come in.”

“Call me old fashioned,” he responds dryly as he’s waved inside because Wynonna is _cold_ , “But generally I think it’s in bad taste to just waltz inside of someone’s house at two in the morning.”

“You’re in your pajamas,” she hears herself say.

As he strips off his coat, he gives her a funny look.  “Well, I mean, I was in bed,” he replies.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she stands there, one hand on the doorknob, for what feels like a long time before she can bring herself to look at his face.  “I—thanks for coming,” she says, awkwardly flapping her free arm.  Another quick pause and she’s muttering quickly, “Do you mind if I just…” before pushing into his space to wrap her arms around his middle, face pressed into his neck.  Without hesitation, he holds her and his fingers card through her hair.  She feels her eyes prick, and she pulls back to rub irritably at them.  “I just—I didn’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not alone,” he assures her, hands still combing through her hair.  When she doesn’t respond, he tilts her chin up with his thumbs, fingers splayed over her jaw.  “You’re _not_.”

Voice a little rough, she asks as she turns away, “So, bed?”

There’s a nervous wriggle in her gut when he nods and lets himself be led to the bedroom.  Arms crossed, she watches him shut the door behind them.  “Where’s Waverly?” he asks.

“Nicole’s,” she answers simply with a shrug.  “So, about that kiss…”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you maybe wanna do it again?” she asks, eyebrows shooting up.

He steps into her space, both hands falling onto her hips.  “Yeah,” he says, breath ghosting over her lips.

She has to crane a little to press their lips together, and there’s still that quiet thrill at the touch, softer now than it had been before.  There’s a quiet emotion bleeding through her chest, as her fingers brush over his neck, holding him close.  His exhale, rumbling like a growl, shivers all through her and she gasps quietly, pulling away.  He brings a hand to her cheek, thumb brushing over the bone and raising goosebumps.  Eyes closed, she turns into it, and it’s almost too good, too tender, almost scary.

“I, um—I don’t want to have sex with you,” she tells him in a rush.  Frowning, she adds, “I mean tonight.  Just tonight.  Jury’s out on tomorrow morning.”

It’s not really clear to her now how she thought he’d react—probably not the snort, though.

“We don’t have to,” he murmurs, lips on her forehead.

There’s a cold dread in her gut she didn’t realize was there until he says that.  She leans into him for a moment before breaking away completely.  “We should probably go to bed,” she smiles, edging to the light switch.  He makes a show of making himself comfortable stretched out on one side of her bed, meticulously spreading her blanket over himself.

Eyes rolling quickly, she flips the switch and hurries across the dark room.  She wriggles under the covers until she’s mashed all against his side, suddenly _drained_.  Yawning, she noses at his throat contentedly, savors the peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen someone please just be good to my girl, okay? She needs a break. I'm not sure if this is a part of a larger thing, I just had feelings I needed to express.
> 
> I have a [Tumblr](http://johnisntevendead.tumblr.com) where I cry a lot. Prompts are good. I ask for attention a lot.


End file.
